


first day of my life

by iced_matchalatte



Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: Canon Compliant, Childhood Friends, Eventual Romance, F/M, Fake/Pretend Relationship, First Love, Fluff and Angst, Friends to Lovers, Haikyuu!! Manga Spoilers, Multi, Mutual Pining, Pro Volleyball Player Ushijima Wakatoshi, Slow Burn, ushijima wakatoshi best boy
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-01-20
Updated: 2021-02-08
Packaged: 2021-03-11 23:49:24
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 11,779
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28875966
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/iced_matchalatte/pseuds/iced_matchalatte
Summary: You’ve always held a torch out for Ushijima Wakatoshi. Quietly orbiting his world, satisfied with brief conversation and rare smiles. You were resigned to Miracle Boy Wakatoshi breaking your heart. Four years later, you absolutely feel nothing for him, keeping him tucked away as a schoolgirl crush. You feel nothing. Nothing, at all.At least that’s what you tell yourself when he comes drunkenly stumbling back into your life with no forewarning at all that he intended to stay.
Relationships: Shiratorizawa Academy Volleyball Club/Ushijima Wakatoshi, Ushijima Wakatoshi & Reader, Ushijima Wakatoshi & Schweiden Adlers, Ushijima Wakatoshi/Reader, Ushijima Wakatoshi/You
Comments: 18
Kudos: 30





	1. track one

**Author's Note:**

> a/n: hello! This is my first haikyuu fanfic Ever… also my first fanfic in years so please be nice (my only other writing credentials include harry styles fanfics from 2014). this is canon-compliant and begins in 2017, when Ushijima and the rest of the third-years are set to be around 22 years old. there will be a few original characters here and there to keep the plot going but will do my best to flesh them out so it doesn’t get too confusing. the fic is titled after the song First Day of my Life by Bright Eyes. enjoy!!

> _2013 – Shiratorizawa Academy Commencement Rites_

“(F/N)-chan! Take our photo please!” Semi called out to you from across the school gym as you pulled away from a tearful hug with another classmate. You ran over to the lanky blonde as he stood around with the rest of the third years of the Shiratorizawa Boys’ Volleyball Club. All impeccably dressed in the classic white school blazer, powder blue dress shirt, and purple blazer, the six third years stood beside each other mindlessly chatting about plans for tonight. You tried your hardest to not stare at the olive-haired captain who was set to leave Sendai in a matter of days to continue training for his professional volleyball debut with a Division 1 team in Tokyo. You felt your breathing quicken as you felt for the CD case hidden beneath your school blazer, worried that it might have fallen off during the ceremony. Ushijima briefly glanced over to you as you took the camera from Semi and walked a few steps away from the group of boys.

“Look over here guys! One, two, three…” You said, snapping away at the smiling faces of your childhood friends as they pulled up peace signs and swung their arms over one another in loose hugs. You giggled as Tendou slapped Ushijima on the back, telling him to _“loosen up, Miracle Boy!"_ which resulted in the latter cracking into a genuinely wide smile. You felt your heart race even more as you caught the ace’s smile through the viewfinder of the camera. As soon as you were done, taking the photos, Tendou ran over to you and hugged you tightly, slightly lifting you off the ground.

“(F/N)-chan I can’t believe high school is over! I’m going to miss you so much!” Tendou whined as you wrapped your arms around him, still holding onto the camera as you laughed. The rest of the boys looked at you fondly with Semi rolling his eyes playfully at you and Tendou who had committed himself to what he dubbed as a one-sided love for you through all of high school. It was all a joke of course that the team grew accustomed to, with Tendou often calling you the team’s muse to tease you when everyone except Ushijima knew of your feelings for the super ace. 

“It’s not like we’ll never see each other again, Satori.” You replied as he brought you back down. “I’ll miss you too, freak. Thank you for everything.” You added, looking into the redhead solemnly, hoping your eyes would convey the depth of everything you meant to say. Tendou squeezed your shoulder and rested his chin on your head, as if to silently say nothing more needed to be said.

You walked over to each of the boys on the team, taking photos with each of them on your Instax Mini that you had meticulously decorated with Goshiki and Shirabu one day after their practice. Seokawa, and Reon jokingly offered their second buttons to you as a sign of their love which you swatted away, blushing while Tendou, Yamagata and Semi continued to take obnoxious selfies with your Instax Mini to waste away your film. Semi, whom you had known half your life and already spent the morning taking photos with, along with your families, walked towards you to envelope you in a hug that Tendou captured on his phone. 

“We made it. It’s now or never, (F/N)-chan.” Semi whispered into your ear, referring to the bravest thing you were just about to do as you pulled away from him. Ushijima locked eyes with you, and moved to make space as you approached him for a photo just as you did with everyone else. 

Ushijima Wakatoshi was an observant boy. Analytical, precise and honest – he prided himself in such qualities that constituted his success as an athlete. Off the court, he committed such qualities to his personal relationships as well. He took in the sight of you laughing with his teammates, remembering the shy first-years you all were, unsure of how to navigate the unfamiliar landscape of high school. When Reon and Seokawa tease you, your ears glow red in embarrassment and he thinks of all the other times he’s thought of reaching out to soothe your heated skin. He recalls Semi introducing you to him, a childhood friend and nextdoor neighbor who helped him with volleyball training despite your personal lack of interest in the sport. Your hair was shorter then, always in pigtails with matching purple ribbons and a short fringe on your forehead to which Tendou exclaimed made you look like the Fujiya Milky girl when you both first met. You blushed then, too and snarkily replied that it meant he found her cute which she took as a compliment (Tendou swore you would be his wife after that encounter). 

When he looks back at high school, all of his days are punctuated by your presence. He commits your face to memory, dimpled and unceasingly smiling, he’s struck by the force of time and wishes he had more of it. You were all only eighteen yet it feels like he’s been unsparingly propelled forward by the call of success, but Ushijima Wakatoshi was still only a boy. He wanted to laugh with his teammates more. He wanted to be near you. He wanted more. He always does.

“Congratulations (F/N)-san. Thank you for the past three years.” Ushijima said, giving you a small smile. You felt yourself beam at him, warm at receiving one of his rare smiles. Today was a happy day, you thought. 

“Congratulations, Wakatoshi-kun. Thank you for everything too. I’m proud to have known you and the whole team.” You replied quietly, not managing to look Ushijima in the eyes. You felt your ears burn as you moved nearer. Tendou holding your camera and urging the both of you to move closer to one another, shoulders almost touching. The rest of the team watched curiously, amused at your clearly flustered self and at Ushijima’s seemingly relaxed demeanor. To anyone else, one would’ve thought that captain was unchanging, serious and unphased by the atmosphere of such a momentous occasion. But here, enveloped in love and security, Ushijima was just as moved by the events of the day and truthfully, was grappling with the overwhelming uncertainty that came with growing up.  


As soon as your shoulders meet his, his thoughts are interrupted and he clears his throat before wrapping his arm around your shoulder. Your head spins and you hold in a breath, giving a tightlipped smile at the camera. Unknowingly, Ushijima softens at you near him and flashes a reserved smile as Tendou immortalizes that moment with a click of the camera. You both quickly move away from one another, straightening your uniforms immediately as if the folds of your clothes were much more interesting than maintaining close contact with each other’s bodies. Tendou returned your camera, sliding all the film photos into the pocket of your blazer.

“Give him hell, (F/N)-chan.” Tendou whispers as he moves closer to you, giving a knowing look before walking away to return to the team that was huddled farther from you and Ushijima, to give you both space. 

Now or never, you decided. 

“Wa-Wakatoshi-kun…” You whispered, looking down and fidgeting with a sleeve of your blazer. You took a deep breath before looking up at Ushijima who stares at you expectantly. “May I speak to you outside?” You say louder. Ushijima only nods and leads the both of you outside the school gym. You clench your fists together as you walk, trying to calm yourself down and bracing yourself for what’s about to happen. Semi and Tendou exchange smiles as the rest of the team watches your figures dissolve into the afternoon light out the door. 

As you walk faster, Ushijima walks at a normal pace a few steps behind you. You lead the both of you to the shade of a cherry tree in full bloom, the March winds nipping at your necks. You sharply turn and stop to face him as he stands at a distance from you, respectfully as always. You pull the second button off your blazer in one swift motion and hold it out to Ushijima in your palm.

“I love you, Ushijima Wakatoshi. I always have.” You say in one breath, voice shaking. Ushijima’s eyes widen at your confession and you only continue, intending to say goodbye to your first love today. “I know the guy usually does this but, the second button is supposed to represent our hearts and.. Well.. you’ve always had mine.” 

“(L/N)–”

“Please accept these.” You cut him off before he can respond with anything else. You pull out the CD from the inside of your pocket. Its transparent case reveals a gold CD with his name neatly written on it, and a date of the day today. On the case itself, a message is written in pink permanent marker: _“Thank you for everything. A playlist by (L/N)(F/N).”_ With trembling hands, you bow your head and offer the button and the CD to the boy in front of you. Ushijima slowly reaches out to you to receive the objects that fit comfortably in his palm, fingers brushing momentarily. He reads over the CD briefly and watches as you stand up straight again, tucking a hair strand behind your ear.

“I have decided to say goodbye to you. You are my first love. I know you don’t feel the same so this confession is more self-serving than anything else.” You continued, looking him straight in the eyes. Your intensity almost casts goosebumps on Ushijima’s arm or he’s not sure if it’s the wind playing tricks on him.

“I have grown to know myself and love myself while trying to love you, Wakatoshi-kun. I don’t expect you to reciprocate my feelings because we both know this is not what you need right now. I hope you move forward in your life, knowing that someone loved you as much as I did. I accept all of who you are and who you want to be, even if it’s difficult to understand. So please stay strong, keep working hard and never change yourself for anyone.” You say, proud of how stable and clear your voice has gotten. You’ve practiced and rewritten this speech in your head so many times in your head it feels like muscle memory and you’re still surprised that the words are completely different from what you always imagined yourself saying. You sound strong, completely unlike how you were feeling as of this moment. Ushijima Wakatoshi stands still, hanging onto your every word and holding in a breath. 

Of course one or two girls have confessed to him before, traditionally with the chocolate or bentos with love letters neatly tied in matching stationery offered to him during lunch time. He would decline respectfully, stating that volleyball is his priority and he feels nothing towards the girls who bore their hearts to him. He never meant to hurt them and was only responding according to his best analysis of the situation, which would always circle back to only one thing: honesty. Ushijima Wakatoshi never lies. But here, now, with you standing in front of him saying goodbye, he’s unsure of what honesty demands of him.

“I never do anything half-assed,” You add with a laugh, attempting to relieve the tension. You were afraid Ushijima would awkwardly reject you even if you were not asking for a response, and so to relieve him of the pressure, trying to assure him that you were doing this to make a clean cut, so to speak. “I’ve always fantasized about what it would be like to confess to you, but now that we’re all grown up, I realize it might just be the best thing for both of us if I were to let you go. I don’t want to be that adult with regrets and I want to continue being your friend. So, this is me saying, in the simplest way possible: I love you and goodbye.” You finish, huffing out a breath. 

A long pause of silence.

Ushijima stared at you, observing the way the breeze blew against your hair. His eyes grazed to the empty spot where your second button just was, feeling the weight of it in his palm. His eyes met yours, your pupils holding him down with such absolute resolve that he knew – that whatever he said next would change nothing. This was goodbye. 

“Thank you, (F/N)-san. I’ll never forget you.” Ushijima says, breaking the silence. You say nothing as you crack into a wide smile, bright and dazzling and everything he will ever remember you to be. This is what it means to grow up, you think to yourself. Ushijima Wakatoshi feels a pang in his chest as you walk past him, your heart in the palm of his hand, where it always has been.

* * *

> _2017  
>  This is the first day of my life  
>  Swear I was born right in the doorway_

“You’re late.” Semi Eita chided as you threw your bag over the grimy sofa. You yawned and stretched out your arms to lazily drape them over his shoulders as he tried to squirm his way out of your grasp.

“Relax, Semisemi. I was only ten minutes late this time, at least give me credit for that.” You chirped, inching closer to Semi’s face in an attempt to give a sloppy kiss on his cheek. He rolled his eyes in disgust, blocking your face with his hand. 

“The next time you’re late, you’re getting kicked out I swear.” He huffs. You wave your hand dismissively, holding yourself back from making another sly comment about how he says that every time. 

Band practice was holy to Semi Eita. He lived a watered down Hannah Montana life as a government worker by day and aspiring musician by night. Having known him since his days as an athlete at Shiratorizawa, you saw right through his facades of frustration. You knew better of course, than pissing off a man who valued teamwork and commitment more than anything but eh, it was just so much fun riling up the usually collected blonde. You maneuvered around his frustration at you and decided to eye up his outfit for the day. Years have passed of course since your days of uniform restrictions and Semi took his fashion almost as seriously as he took band practice. 

“I like your top, the cut is a little low for my taste but can I borrow it sometime?” You bite your lip to try and stifle a laugh as he glared back at you. Having had enough of your nonsense, he stands up over to your other bandmates setting up their instruments in the poorly lit basement. Ah yes, the glamorous life of a band composed of twenty-somethings trying to figure out… well… everything. You quickly stand up as well, following the now hot-headed bass player and trying not to egg him on any further. You give yourself maybe an hour before you make any more jabs at him. 

“(L/N), can we try to go over Kazuho’s riff before we start? I’m not really feeling confident about it just yet.” Hasuka Eichi, the vocalist and lead guitarist, approaches you in all his boy next door glory. He’s smiling as he makes his request of course, with all the politeness exes-who-also-work-together can muster. Dressed in impeccably ironed out Uniqlo cropped trousers and a loose fitting white polo, he looked like the antithesis of Semi who would wear a low cut muscle tee and fur coat even to the grocery. It was strange seeing his unruly hair tied back and his ear piercings free any earrings for the sake of his standard day job outfit. Working as a museum curator forced him to uphold a clean shaven appearance and pleasant smile, which is probably why he was so used to putting up fronts in the first place. Even in relationships. Oops, you’re over it you swear. 

“Sure.” You mumble, giving him a tightlipped smile while approaching the drum set. You push aside any other personal thoughts first, remembering the parts you fumbled over during last week’s practice. Kazuho’s guitar riff was intense yet precise, and needed percussion that could match its power while also allowing it to shine and providing the foundation for the vocalist’s voice to take center stage as the song transitioned from the refrain to chorus. Basically, you needed to be the incredible drummer you were and you had about two hours before tonight’s soundcheck before the show, to deliver. Hasuka gave another flashy smile and a brief thank you before striding his way back to his position as you positioned the height of the drumware and the cymbals. You grabbed the drumsticks behind your pocket and warmed yourself up, pressing your feet against the drum pedals and humming the song to yourself. 

“Hey, (L/N).” Kazuho says as he goes up to you. You looked up at the guitarist, who was tuning his own instrument and pushing his glasses up his nose. Kazuho Ishikawa’s build was made for a man who was destined to play in the Japanese Basketball League, standing at a humble 6’3. His face though, was devastatingly pretty and hands (not that you ever spent too much time looking at them) could play guitar like no one you had ever heard. All offense to your ex. 

“What’s up?” You answered nonchalantly, noticing his outfit for today as well. A simple black t-shirt, dark denim jeans and boots. Kazuho, ever the rockstar, but always looked like the environmental researcher he was. Practical and ready for fieldwork any time (he could do all the fieldwork on you any time he wanted––) 

“Did you hear about who’s coming tonight? I heard some of your Shiratorizawa classmates were back in town, even the athletes.” He said, expecting you to answer that the said classmates would be coming. You shrugged, you hadn’t thought about your high school classmates too much considering Semi and those who went to the same university as you had, evolved as separate entities in your life. Every time you did look back on those days, “classmate” was not the word you would use for the one person in particular you wanted to see anyway. And no way would he ever come to any of your band’s gigs. 

“Really? Well if any of them are coming, it’s probably just Goshiki or Reon. They usually go to our gigs when they can, what’s the big deal?” You replied casually. You picked up your phone from your lap and opened up to the voice notes, trying to find the recording from last week. Kazuho looked at you quizzically, wondering why you weren’t reacting more excited about the one guy you would’ve traveled to the ends of the Earth for, coming to see you after years of no contact. He figured you just didn’t care about him anymore, just like you always said, and dropped the issue seeing as you were deep in thought, going through the hundreds of voice notes stored on your phone.

“Do you think she knows that he’s coming?” Masakuni asked as Kazuho walked back to his position beside the flute player. 

Masakuni Hisato, the corporate slave and also an extremely talented flute player, was the most unlikely addition to Semi’s hand selected band. After personally curating the vision he had in mind and meticulously assessing his friends’ talents, Semi had decided the band needed an edge over the other bands in the budding independent musician scene of Sendai. Masakuni, the unassuming business student who sat beside him during a lecture at university, had proven to be the component they needed to complete their five-piece passion project. Born into a wealthy banking family who paid no mind to his unique pursuits and with idol-worthy looks, Masakuni could have probably pursued a professional music career of his own. A music career that would assure him more success, like in an orchestra or as a soloist. But he enjoyed the unusual escape from the corporate world and found that living a life of relative success as a musician broke the monotony of what would have been a very dull career path. 

“I don’t think so, actually. Maybe Semi didn’t tell her?” Kazuho mused, pursing his lips as he mulled over the possible reasons why Semi would keep this a secret. Telling you wouldn’t probably make you jittery anyway if you could handle still being in a band with a guy who broke your heart. 

No one had noticed that Semi had stepped out to give his old friend a call, a deep voice on the other end asking how to get to the dingy club they’d be performing at.

* * *

“I’m surprised you didn’t mess up.” Hasuka says, a smug grin plastered on his face. He switched out his clean cut outfit for an outfit much more like him, basically a graphic t-shirt and a denim jacket. You tried not to let any irritation show on your face and flipped your ponytail over your shoulder in an attempt to feign nonchalance. You would not show your ex-boyfriend that you were affected by his approval or any of his words. Your pride would not allow it. 

“Thanks.” You chirped, attempting to rack your brain for any other witty comebacks. All Hasuka did of course was laugh and put a hand on your shoulder before walking past you to the restrooms. You mentally cursed yourself. Why were you witty, charming, amazingly fun and bold to EVERYONE except him? He was the one who broke your heart! You should be making him grovel. You would have to come up with a repertoire of comebacks with Semi tomorrow. 

Semi, Kazuho and Mazakuni stepped down from the stage as well, sweaty and visibly tired from the seven-song set. The gig went on as they usually did on Fridays. Full of university students and young office workers who moshed along with your songs. Your band had made quite a name for yourselves as a rock band with hints of folk and other experimental takes on the genre within these small circles of indie music. The crowd seemed just as winded as you all were and you were just coming down from your rush of adrenaline that every performance gave you. 

You loved music, that was the bottomline of why you agreed to be part of the band. You loved your bandmates (except Hasuka) and loved performing. The exchange of energy in the small, badly lit room and the creative process of coming up with new music added color to your arguably small life. You had bigger dreams of course but even Tokyo seemed too big for you. At least being part of the bend certainly was very different from your actual job of teaching art to preschoolers. 

“That was great, guys!” Kazuho bellowed, wrapping you and the two other smaller men into a tight, sweaty bear hug. You all groaned and pulled away from him, patting the much larger male on the back and thanking him in return. Kazuho tended to be very reserved, especially for his stature but when a gig went especially well, he was a hugger. 

“Not bad for someone who never goes to practice on time.” Semi smirked at you before putting his arms around you and handing you a bottle of water. 

“Am I just getting old or was that fucking exhausting?” Masakuni said, stretching his back and making his way to the bar for a beer probably. You chuckled and shook your head, taking a gulp of the ice cold water. Hasuka usually escaped any post-performance rites of thanking one another, something your band had grown accustomed to ever since your breakup eight months ago. You pushed down thoughts of how before the fallout had happened, the rest of you were cheesier and would have a group hug before and after every gig. You were good at that. Repression should be considered a skill, you thought. 

You wormed your way out of Semi’s grip as you saw him make eye contact with Minori. You raised your eyebrow at him and put your hands up in defense, walking away before he could chastise you for being a pervert or whatever insult he thought he could throw at you. 

You needed some fresh air. The past week left you fatigued and you were caught in too many memories that you dwelled on for a moment too long. You decided to step out and join the usual smokers who gathered on the sidewalk after a performance. You didn’t smoke or vape or allow yourself any other vice but repression and overthinking.  


The night was chilly, and you regretted not stealing a jacket from one of your uselessly large bandmates. You wrapped your arms around yourself in an attempt to keep yourself warm as you people watched, staring at the influx of customers and the cheap fluorescent lighting in the convenience store across you. It was a small family-owned convenience store, just like all the other local businesses in the prefecture. Though the club adjacent to it was a modern fixture, at least the convenience store you’d pass by as a high schooler was still there. Nostalgia is an inescapable curse in cities you grow up in. They manifest even on nights like these, plaguing you even when you’re twenty-one and think you’re so much wiser from your school girl days. When will you finally feel like an adult, you wonder.

Your night is over, you decide. Even the prospect of going home with a stranger for a few hours of escapism doesn’t quell your loneliness, not that you would ever admit that you were feeling lonely. You cross the street over to the convenience store for an unhealthy dinner. Or maybe some milk bread and Pocari sweat to bide the hunger over until you could go home and save more money this way. 

The moment you walk over to reach the front of the store, you notice the large husk of a man sitting on the concrete, by the entrance. He sits in the shade of the street lamp, obscuring anyone’s view of his presence unless they get close enough to realize that someone is there. His head is bowed down and his hair is covering his face. You assess the situation at impressive speed and wonder if you should help him when you peek over and see the store clerk is a stone faced old man who doesn’t seem to have the patience for two young people stirring a ruckus past midnight. 

To be a good person or quietly get my milk bread and go home. That is the question. 

You sigh and give in to your better judgment and crouch down to take a better look at the man. He reeks of alcohol as expected and by judging the quality of his clothing, is well off enough to at least get drunk in some of the more exclusive bars in Sendai. What the hell is doing in front of a convenience store all alone? 

“WAIT!” You hear a familiar voice screech. You whip your head around to see Tendou Satori running towards you, looking as manic and strangely handsome as he always had been. Confusion flashes on his face as it registers to him that you are not some random woman trying to take advantage of his best friend. He immediately recognizes you then sprints towards you in almost panicked excitement. 

“(F/N)-chan! It’s so good to see you!” He says while catching his breath. He’s resting his arms on his knees as he tries to gather up the energy to explain whatever it is that you’re witnessing. You blink as you realize that Tendou is now bald. And you haven’t heard from him in what – two? Three years? The unconscious man stirs and attempts to lift his head, groaning in evident discomfort. He raises his head, resting it against the concrete wall and mumbling incoherently about how he really wanted hayashi rice. You would recognize his face and voice anywhere. 

“U-Ushijima-kun?” You whisper. He only grunts in reply, his eyes still wincing and struggling to open. It really is Ushijima Wakatoshi. 

Ushijima Wakatoshi whom you have not seen in four years. Ushijima Wakatoshi of the Schweiden Adlers who is now a sure bet as a member of the Japan national men’s volleyball team for the 2020 Tokyo Olympics. Ushijima Wakatoshi, Japan’s Young Cannon who played at the 2014 Volleyball World League at the age of 19. Ushijima Wakatoshi with whom your last contact was the gifting of a badly crafted 8tracks playlist you burned on a CD on your graduation day. Ushijima Wakatoshi whom you have not thought about in years, even at mentions of his feats on national television. At least, that’s what you keep convincing yourself. 

“(F/N)! Satori! Wakatoshi!” Semi Eita screams from across the street. You look at him as he frantically waves at you before running over. He doesn’t seem surprised, you notice. He only looks alarmed at the unforeseen circumstance. You of course have no clue that this meeting was not so much fate but a planned reunion between old volleyball teammates. Though Semi didn’t imagine it was going to be this… messy. He had a lot of explaining to do. 

As you were about to ask Tendou what happened, the professional volleyball player vomits all over your chest. Before you can even register what’s happening, you and Tendou lurch forward to catch Ushijima’s large body that’s being pushed over by his own err.. regurgitation. 

Nice to see you too Wakatoshi-kun.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> waaa thank you for reading! if you didn't know, the tradition of giving one's [second button](https://mangadejapan.com/articles/detail/1088) during high school or junior high graduation is often done by male students, towards the people they like. please let me know what you thought! 🍰


	2. tongue tied

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hello!! thank u for reading the first chapter 💜 this whole fic is a labor of love for ushijima because wHY NOT <3___<3 so many things have yet to unfold so i hope u stick around and read along! i think he's one of the most complex characters of hq despite his demeanor, so figuring out how to characterize him has been fun waaa enjoy reading :)

Tongue Tied by Grouplove

_Take me to your best friend's house  
Roll around this roundabout  
Take me to your best friend's house  
I loved you then and I love you now  
Don't take me tongue tied  
Don't wave no goodbye_

* * *

Well, this was strange.

You glare accusingly at the ex-middle blocker and ex-setter who are seated across from you in your shared apartment with the culprit in question. You’re (kind of) clean from Ushijima’s vomit as you washed your shirt in the unkept bathroom of the convenience store in front of which the entire debacle happened. Now dressed in an old shirt of Semi’s and a ratty old pair of leggings, you’re all gathered in your living room as you wait for them to explain what the hell exactly was going on. 

“You look great, (F/N)-chan!” Tendou says in an attempt to lighten the mood. You were trying very hard not to show any affection towards your old friend and trying even harder not to think about the fact that (almost sober) Ushijima Wakatoshi was in your bathroom washing himself off. You were under extreme distress at the thought of him in your apartment with Semi at all. And you had to rid the bathroom of your drying underwear before the now 6’4 man stumbled into the toilet for another round of puking. As if your now soiled shirt was not enough. It was impressive you noted, how you ran in and out of the bathroom at the speed of light just to salvage your territorialism in your sacred safe space. 

“Satori-kun, why are you here? Why is Ushijima-kun here? Last I heard you were both off in Tokyo.” You replied, crossing your arms in front of your chest. Semi scratched his head and decided to save Tendou’s explanation which would undoubtedly have been embellished with unnecessary details.

“Okay so last week, Satori-kun and Wakatoshi-kun called me saying they’d be coming back to Sendai for the month because-–” 

**“Wakatoshi-kun was forced to be put on leave. He’s not playing for the rest of the season.”** Tendou finishes quickly. You blink.

“W-what? Ushijima-kun’s not… playing?” You repeat Tendou’s words carefully. Tendou only replied with a shrug, as if to say that you heard it right. You look to Semi who only nods in confirmation. 

“How does that HAPPEN? That’s impossible!” You whisper-shriek, mindful of the very thin walls of your shared two-bedroom apartment. Obviously, it was unthinkable that _the_ Ushiwaka wasn’t playing volleyball. Hell, even when you were in love with him, volleyball was the only other contender for his heart. It just didn’t make sense especially when he was on a top-tier Division 1 team in the league and has played as a representative of Japan since he was eighteen – he was a surefire weapon to secure the Adlers their reign as champions. 

“He hasn’t been himself lately. Apparently, his plays had been off for the whole season and he can only deliver during actual games which wasn’t enough for their management. They suggested he come back home to take some time off.” Semi says, choosing his words carefully out of his respect for his old captain. A star player not being on top of their game was a difficult situation to explain. 

Before you can reply, you hear the water in the shower stop, and you freeze. 

“Okay, we’ll talk more about this later but do you guys have a place to stay? Are you staying with your families?” You ask, pinching your furrowed eyebrows together trying to comprehend the situation. 

“About that…” Semi trails off, scratching the back of his head.

“I’m staying back home and I offered it to Wakatoshi too but he denied. His family doesn’t know he’s back and he doesn’t want to tell them either, it seems. At least for the time being. Which is why I called Semisemi over here…” Tendou says, nudging your roommate who suddenly can’t meet your eyes. 

“Oh god.” You realize that’s why Semi’s been cleaning and rearranging the furniture. You assumed it was for feng shui or whatever new spiritual practice he was adopting to keep the energy flowing in your small apartment. But even with arguably more space in your two-bedroom unit, it still seemed too small for the professional athlete you were supposed to share it with now. Not to mention, the man you were in love with for all your life. At least until high school. 

“I’msosorry(F/N)-chan.” Semi blurts in a hurry. He suddenly kneels down and practically grovels at your knees to beg for forgiveness. “I wasn’t sure if he really was coming since he said he’d let me know if he found another apartment. He’s staying at a hotel for tonight and I thought we were going to smooth out the details after the gig but well… you found him. I’m so sorry, I didn’t mean to catch you off guard. I really promise I wasn’t trying to be shady….” He rambles on about how he would never be mean to you again and would cook all the meals for you starting tomorrow morning. That part almost got you to loosen up at the idea since Semi’s cooking was much better than yours but that didn’t ease the emotional burden of being confronted with the boy you swore to marry when you were fourteen every day from now on. 

Your thoughts were interrupted when Ushijima walked out of the bathroom, looking like his usual composed self. His hair is damp and he has a towel around his neck, dressed in Semi’s old shirt that’s apparently too tight for him and some sweatpants that unfortunately also seem a bit shorter on him than on Semi. You try not to dwell on the fact that you have borrowed that very shirt many times as it was the perfect loose-fitting shirt for your domestic girlfriend fantasies but it was straining against the expanse of his (chiseled) chest. You weren’t checking him out you swear.

“Hello (F/N)-san.” Ushijima says as he bows to you. He walks over to the couch you’re sitting on and sits across from you on the far end. You’re suddenly feeling extremely aware of yourself and notice how he smells oddly like the lavender bath gel you use. It suddenly feels too intimate to think that you share personal necessities now. You only nod at him in return as his eyes dart from across you, Semi, and Tendou.

“I apologize for how I acted tonight. I usually do not drink or get drunk. I left Tendou when we were drinking at a nearby bar and didn’t realize I fell unconscious. I’m sorry for vomiting on you and thank you for letting me stay with you.” He says in his usual stoic tone. His eyes though always conveyed more emotion than his voice. As always, Ushijima never lies so you know that he is being as sincere as he can with his explanations and apologies. But you, however, are still processing the obvious elephant in the room that he wasn’t doing that well in volleyball and you were more concerned that he wasn’t doing well. Not that you would admit that. 

“It’s okay, Ushijima-kun. It’s been a long night so I’m going to take a shower and we can all settle this in the morning, alright?” You clear your throat and look at the three freakishly tall men in front of you before making your way to the bathroom. You walk fast enough to cover your face with your hair, covering your now blushing face as you practically sprint your way away from them.

Ushijima only stares as you walk away and thinks about the playlist you gave him, tucked away in his bag.  


* * *

You wake up at noon. You’re in your bed, alone in your room. For the first few minutes from waking up, you’re suspended in your own sleepy haze and don’t even remember the events from last night. You grab your phone from your bedside and almost jolt from your bed at the time. Thankfully, it was a Saturday so you didn’t have work but you did have to run a few errands today––

Ushijima. 

He’s here. 

Semi Eita must die.

You run out of your door to find the living room and kitchen empty, almost convincing yourself that last night had just been a very realistic dream. You astral projected, that’s all. 

“Good afternoon, (F/N)-san.” Ushijima says from behind, standing in the doorway to the bathroom adjacent to your shared kitchen. You turn around and cross your arms over your chest instinctively, to obscure his view of your braless chest barely covered by the thin material of your t-shirt. You were wearing sweaters to bed from now on, you tell yourself. But not that Ushijima would stare or look at you that way, anyway. You didn’t want him to either, because you were now a mature young woman completely unaffected by a childhood crush. Right?

“Ushijima-kun… hi.” You reply meekly, brushing your bedhead down to obey gravity. “I see you stayed for the night.” You looked at him, searching his face for any signs of a hangover or extreme exhaustion from the night before. Physically, he seemed in optimum shape the way he’s always been. 

“Yes, I fell asleep on the couch so I couldn’t go back to the hotel. Tendou had to meet his family. Semi offered to pick up my luggage from the hotel and check out for me. I apologize again for this intrusion.” He replied as he stepped out of the bathroom, hunching from the shorter door frame. You blinked at him, processing the realization that he would be staying here officially and Semi probably volunteered to do that so he wouldn’t have to face you when you woke up. Smart. 

You cleared your throat and nodded. “That’s good. I hope you had a good night’s rest even though the couch probably wasn’t the most comfortable…” You trailed off, looking at the averagely-sized couch that looked too small for the man standing in front of you. It was in this morning light that you saw him more clearly, feeling all too young once again. 

Ushijima Wakatoshi looked just as he did when he was eighteen. He was taller, more muscular, stoic as ever. His olive-brown hair was a bit longer than the clean and meticulously upkept length he maintained in high school. His jaw was sharper, adulthood carved out his face to immaculate proportions. But he looked… calmer, you noted. In high school, you knew his serene exterior was only ever challenged during games. But beneath that, you were wary of the extent Ushijima would go to, to win. He was still a boy after all, hardened by the demands of his dreams – but a boy. The man before you was less of a cannon in this morning light and looked younger than he was when you were both eighteen. He’s changed, you thought. So did you, but you doubt he would notice that about you. 

“It was alright. I’m the one imposing on both of you, I’ll be fine. Your cat…” Ushijima replied, gesturing to the food bowl by his foot. “I hope you don’t mind but it seemed hungry so I was about to look for where you kept its food.” 

“Oh, you’ve met Bean! I’m so sorry, he can be really noisy when he’s hungry.” You answered, walking over to the pantry in your small kitchen. You cleared your throat again as you reached for the bag of cat food on the third tier shelf that was admittedly a bit too high for you (Semi placed it there out of spite since you overfed your shared pet). Before you could grab it, Ushijima leaned forward and took the bag of cat food for you. His left arm barely stretching to reach for it on the top shelf, upper torso encasing you. You froze as he hovered over you for the briefest of moments, feeling his warmth on your skin. Goosebumps erupted over your body and you gulped down your nervousness, covering your chest with your hands once again. 

“He wasn’t a bother. I can help feed… Bean now, thank you for letting me know where it is.” Ushijima said as he stepped back and cleared his throat this time. Both of you suddenly aware of the proximity of the other. 

You felt plastered to the pantry as you struggled to compose yourself from the overwhelming contact – which wasn’t even much so this was especially embarrassing to you. You closed the pantry doors and as if on cue, Bean, your two-year-old cat circled around your legs meowing loudly as he emerged from whatever corner he found refuge in for the morning. As Bean nudged his head on your goosebump-covered leg, Ushijima kneeled down and poured the cat food into the bowl. 

“Hello Bean.” Ushijima murmured, unsure of how to approach the wary calico. He stared intently at the cat, analyzing how to approach his new housemate. 

Bean approached the large stranger to sniff him before turning around and immediately devouring his breakfast delivered by the intruder. All you could do was stare at the scenario unfolding before you, dumbfounded at Ushijima Wakatoshi’s attempt of assuming responsibility in your household and of all things, attempting to gain the good graces of your cat. 

“Thank you. It takes a while for him to warm up to people but he really is a good boy.” Your lips curl upward at Ushijima, giving him a small smile. He looks at the cat once more, cocking his head to the side as if to determine the weight of your words. 

He stands up from the floor, rising to his full height once again, his head nearing the overhead lighting. His eyes scan your face, taking in your reserved smile. 

Ushijima often struggled with expressing himself not because he was a heartless machine, contrary to his rivals’ perceptions. Just as he was on the court, he made no unnecessary movements. In volleyball, his defense style was rooted in his simple strength, technique molded by sheer power and calculated against proven efficiency. As his sports philosophy spilled into his own life, he smiled sparingly, only when he truly felt compelled to. Which is not to say he didn’t enjoy the excesses of your smiles in high school, or even now, when faced in an undoubtingly awkward situation. He was always drawn to them, intrigued by the ease through which you moved in the world, no air of intimidation or intention masked behind the way you treated him. 

You purse your lips, racking your brain for something substantial to say, to cut through the tension that settles in after Ushijima offers no reply. There were of course so many other questions to ask him, but you decided to push them aside and commit yourself to getting ready for the day. 

_Why haven’t you been playing well, Ushijima-kun?_

_Are you eating well?_

_Did you ever listen to that playlist I gave you?_

_Do you like cats?_

“I have to get ready now but just wait a bit and I can prepare us some breakfast–err, brunch, rather.” You say, realizing it was noon and internally kicking yourself for sleeping in when Ushijima has probably been up for hours. You ran a hand through your hair and sighed, internally kicking yourself for your lack of finesse. You turn to the left to approach the bathroom in the super ace’s direction. 

“Wait.” 

You pause, turning to face Ushijima once again. His face is devoid of any expression and a pregnant pause fills the air. Ushijima likes being sure, precise and straightforward. He spares no words for the sake of small talk.

“You used to call me by my first name.” He says plainly. Your ears warm up at the memory. You did use to call him by his first name which now seems too intimate for the distance brought by four years of no contact. In private, you fantasized about going so far as calling him _Waka-chan or Toshi-kun_. At the back of your mind of course you never stopped calling him Wakatoshi. It just felt difficult to reconcile with the _Ushijima ‘Japan’s Cannon’ Wakatoshi_ you saw on television. You gulp, trying to stitch together a diplomatic answer that wouldn’t warrant any more questions. 

“Yes. Yes, I did.” You answer as you turn your attention to the floor, the wooden planks suddenly seeming far more interesting. _Why is he bringing this up?_

More silence. 

“M-may I still call you by your first name?” You sheepishly ask, eyes still refusing to meet his. 

“Yes.” 

Oh. 

“May I still call you by your first name?” Ushijima adds, mirroring your response. Your body tenses again and you crane your head up to meet his face. His eyes meet yours impassively as you nod at him in reply. You watch his shoulders visibly slump, arms relaxing on the side. 

“Of course, Wakatoshi-kun.” You answer, lips curling upwards in another smile. You chuckle softly, shaking your head at how easy conversation Ushijima has always been.  


No unnecessary movements. No decorative words. No ulterior motives. 

_Wa-ka-to-shi-kun._ He likes hearing the way you say his name again.

“Thank you (F/N)-san. For last night and for accommodating me again.” He responds, his mouth curling up in a wisp of a smile. You feel your heart double over, hammering against your rib cage. You’ve never felt as young as you do now, standing in front of him. You beam, unable to stop the wide smile growing on your face. 

Conversation was never hard with Ushijima. Now as adults, studying the way his body tensed, measuring his curt responses, and catching a glimmer of smile every now and then felt like muscle memory. Before you even registered yourself rambling for a way to catch up to him, he always managed to usher you towards a comfortable pace and familiar territory. If anything, you felt like conversation was your arena, Ushijma acting as a loyal player, volleying between topics, and untangling your stumbling over words with ease. But there were times, of course, he left you breathless. 

You decided there was nothing left to say for the moment. You walk past him, feeling as if your heart were about to leap from your chest if you didn’t leave his presence immediately. His eyes bore into your figure as you turned away from him, noting that you still smelled of the same jasmine and rose perfume you used in high school.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ushijima's just always watching u walk away huh 👁👄👁 the song for this chapter is the iconic 2011 song tongue tied by group love. if u were a teenager on the internet in 2013, you already know this was THE soundtrack to our coming of age daydreams 😭 each chapter will feature a nostalgic 8tracks song from around 2012-13 because ofc!!! the ominous Playlist is an important character in itself! :3 anyway i hope u enjoyed this, please let me know what u think 🌱


	3. 1901

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hello lovely people! this chapter is a long one to make up for my lack of updates hehe the song for this chapter is 1901 by phoenix 🌻 enjoy!!!

> 1901 by Phoenix
> 
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>  _Counting all different ideas drifting away  
>  Past and present, they don't matter  
>  Now the future's sorted out  
>  Watch, you're moving in elliptical pattern  
>  Think it's not what you say  
>  What you say is way too complicated  
>  For a minute thought I couldn't tell how to fall out_
> 
>  __

“Hey roomies!” Tendou Satori greets, bursting into your (now) shared apartment with Semi Eita and Ushijima Wakatoshi.

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The two-bedroom space was now being divided equally, or well, as equal as it could be between your two titan roommates. After much debate and struggling to maintain composure as you argued endlessly with Semi, the situation was to be decided by a coin toss. 

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Tendou moved to place paper bags of his latest home cooked food experiments on the kitchen counter. His face quirks in a crooked grin, obviously amused at the predicament his friends were facing. You were seated beside Semi on the sofa, opposite of Ushijima. All of you paid no attention to Tendou who was leaning on the kitchen island, head resting in his hand as he watched the three of you concentrate on the coin in Semi’s hand. 

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Semi sighed and mumbled something about getting it over with already as he tossed the coin in the air. 

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Heads for Semi giving up his room for Ushijima.  


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Tails for Ushijima moving in one of your rooms. 

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The metal spun through the air as you swiped your clammy palms on the fabric of your jeans. Inevitably, the universe was on your side and heads managed to prevail, leaving you now cloistered with frustrated rockstar Semi. Not that you minded though, as the other option would have left you mortified beyond redemption. Sharing a bathroom with Ushijima was already enough to make you short circuit.  
You released a breath and Tendou applauded the scene obnoxiously as Semi groaned and leaned back on the sofa. 

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“Aw Semisemi! Girls’ night every night!” You cooed at your best friend, moving to pinch his cheeks which Semi expertly dodged with feigned disgust. 

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“Honestly the couch is just fine–” Ushijima started, as you and Semi snapped your heads towards the former captain to stop him from rejecting your offers once again. 

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“No.” You and Semi countered Ushijima in unison. Ushijima’s shoulders deflated at what seemed like the hundredth time being rejected today alone. The usually accepting sportsman was challenged by the discomfort of imposing on his two old friends, and being a burden in any way or form was something the ace was not accustomed to nor was he satisfied with.

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“Just accept it, Wakatoshi-kun. It’s really fine.” Semi assured Ushijima, standing up to walk past him on the way to the kitchen. The former setter placed a hand on Ushijima’s broad shoulder, in the absurdly comforting manner of old teammates as if to silently tell him to shrug it off. 

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“ _Don’t mind, Wakatoshi-kun!_ We all agreed this would be the fairest way to decide, right?” You chirped up, smiling at Ushijima, amused at your own volleyball reference. Ushijima couldn’t stop himself from giving the faintest of smiles at your remark. Tendou breaks into a loud laugh and Semi only rolls his eyes before chuckling to himself at how you always did joke around that you were an honorary member of the Shiratorizawa Boys’ Volleyball Club. 

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Feeling exponentially better after the whirlwind of events from the night before, you felt more comfortable now cracking jokes and even decided not to berate Semi too much. Semi of course, was still expected to oblige to his previously stated promise of cooking meals for you everyday to atone for the emotional weight of Ushijima now being your roommate.  


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You stood up to join Semi and Tendou in the kitchen, with Ushijima following immediately. Tendou had unpacked all his newest creations, declaring that you, Semi and Ushijima would now act as his loyal taste testers. A plethora of dishes ranging from what Tendou dubbed as Italian-Japanese fusion cuisine to carefully constructed desserts with intricately designed chocolate centerpieces at the top were laid out on the counter. You knew of course, that Tendou was currently in culinary school but you had no idea of the extent of his talent. Considering that Tendou was one of those boys you grew up with who would take bites of two dishes at the same time to apparently _“create new flavors”_ (natto crossed over with century egg was a combination that haunted you), you weren’t surprised that formal culinary training allowed his eccentric tastes to flourish.

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“You can actually cook?!” Semi exclaimed, reaching to pick out what Tendou had called a spicy prosciutto-tuna roll. 

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“Semisemi don’t act like you haven’t always liked my cooking.” Tendou teased back, motioning for you and Ushijima to pick out whatever they liked. You took a pair of chopsticks and picked out what seemed like a more gourmet take on squid ink pasta. 

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Semi scoffed, bringing up how Tendou almost burned down their training camp venue once to cook instant ramen as teenagers. 

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The afternoon went on with the four of you exchanging stories during university, divulging slightly into half-baked plans for the future. You marveled at Ushijima's monotonous retelling of playing at the 2016 Rio Olympics with Karasuno’s Tobio Kageyama. You felt as if your insides were being torn apart from laughing at Tendou’s poor attempts of speaking French which he apparently was studying as well to prepare for his plans of moving to Paris one day. Conversation ebbed and flowed naturally and it felt almost as if you were all eighteen again, making reckless declarations of plans after high school. Eventually circling back to you and Semi, you both explained your day jobs and alter egos as musicians who were set on breaking through the Sendai music scene. Though, the latter part of that dream was more of Semi’s personal goal which you were happy to help him with. 

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“So (F/N)-chan, you’re a teacher! That’s amazing, (L/N)-sensei!” Tendou said, wide-eyed and in awe. You blushed at his reaction, resigned to most people brushing away your occupation. 

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“What do you teach?” Ushijima asked, sounding genuinely curious. He had heard you were living with Semi and you had briefly mentioned trying out teaching in the past, though he was never sure of what you pursued after college. It’s not like he never concerned himself with how you were doing, but he had never been particularly concerned with anyone else’s personal lives (well no one ever asked how Ushijima was doing since everyone knew from seeing his face everywhere). 

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“I teach art at a nearby preschool. I also teach a few beginner’s art classes at the art center sometimes…” You trailed off, furiously wishing the topic would change. It wasn’t that you were ashamed of your profession, not at all. You just always had bigger dreams for yourself and a part of you was angry at your own inertia for staying in Sendai all your life. Not that you wanted to open up to that extent with your childhood friends you just reunited with.

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“That suits you. You were always good with people.” Ushijima replied. Semi exchanges a look with Tendou who was smiling at his best friend’s attention towards you. “It’s great that you’re still painting.” Ushijima adds. 

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Your eyes widen at the thought of Ushijima remembering that you were a painter. In high school you shrugged it off as a hobby that you would eventually grow out of. Ushiijima never did forget though, as he would often catch you staying after school painting in the Art Club room whilst jogging around Shiratorizawa campus. Eventually the said hobby evolved into a passion that you had no privilege of denying, as it became clearer that it was something you enjoyed beyond reason. A feeling Ushijima knows quite well to be a natural response to any passion. 

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“Wakatoshi-kun is great at drawing!” Tendou blurts out. Semi raises his eyebrow at the recollection, curious to understand where the conversation was leading to. 

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“Thank you Wakatoshi-kun…” You trail off after clearing your throat, unsure of how to take his sudden praise. “Right, you drew a lot as a child didn’t you, Wakatoshi-kun?” You ask, tucking a stray piece of hair behind your ears to mask how the direction of the conversation left you flustered. 

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Ushijima hums in response. “Yes, I drew quite frequently as a child. Tendou also used to make me draw sometimes in high school.” 

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Tendou guffaws at the memory, memories of being his best friend’s roommate were always accompanied by his own pestering of the super ace. Ushijima never really did mind drawing Tendou’s ridiculous manga requests, featuring whichever favorite manga character Tendou decided was the cutest that month. 

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“Maybe Wakatoshi-kun can join you in one of your classes as a guest teacher!” Tendou proposes, making you almost choke on the black tea you were currently taking a sip of to calm yourself down. “That would be fun, no?” Tendou nudges Ushijima who’s seated beside him. 

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You look at Semi who’s facing you with an equally confused look, both your brains racking to understand what Tendou’s intentions were. 

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“Satori-kun I’m sure Wakatoshi has–” 

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“I’m not sure that would be a good idea” Ushijima cuts you off. You feel an infinitesmal pang break through your chest at his rejection of the idea. 

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“I’d probably disrupt (F/N)-san’s performance but if it’s alright with her, it would be an interesting experience.” Ushijima finishes, taking another bite of the specially made hayashi rice Tendou had prepared solely for him. 

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You feel your ears heat up at the proposal and turn your eyes to face Tendou who now had a smirk planted on his face as if to say you’re welcome. Semi narrows his eyes at Tendou, silently mouthing _what are you doing?_ to the former Middle Blocker to which Tendou only shrugs. 

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“Oh no I’m sure you’d be great, the kids love meeting new people but you must be really busy…” You ramble on, a part of you hoping he would reject the idea altogether even if you physically felt pain at the thought of him pushing away your presence just now. 

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“I’m not training as of the moment. I have much more free time.” Ushijima replies casually, as if that would straighten out the entire situation.

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“Great! (F/N)-sensei when is your next class?” 

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“Satori-kun–”

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“She has a class on Monday, at 8:30 AM.” Semi answers before you can even comprehend the situation unfolding. Suddenly finding the food before him much more interesting than the frown on your face, Semi only takes another bite of his Coffee Creme Brulee. 

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You internally groan at how Semi and Tendou always manage to trap you in the most stressful Ushijima-related situations. You made a mental note to confront the two later on, possibly holding your shared cat with Semi as hostage to his viciousness. 

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“May I join you then, (F/N)-san?” Ushijima faces you, forcing you to pay attention to his olive eyes boring into yours. 

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“Sure… I’ll just have to ask my boss.” You reply meekly, flashing a small smile at him. Ushijima only nods in acknowledgement, reverting his attention back to his meticulously prepared favorite food courtesy of his best friend.

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“Ushijima-sensei and (L/N)-sensei!” Tendou claps, clearly satisfied at the outcome of his manipulated turn of events. You rub your temples, careful to not show Ushijima any sign of stress while you feign a smile at Semi and Tendou who were now rambling about a song Semi was apparently in the middle of finishing. 

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“You guys can join too–” You start, interrupting Semi and Tendou.

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“Nope. Can’t draw for shit.”

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“I hate children.”

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Tendou and Semi reply simultaneously, responses getting lost in each other’s excuses. You sigh, resigning yourself to the situation. Ushijima only looks at you with an expression you can’t read. You purse your lips together and reach for your phone to set a reminder for informing your boss of a certain volleyball superstar volunteering to teach your kindergarten class.

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“You don’t like him anymore, anyway, right? Shouldn’t be a problem for you.” Tendou says in his signature teasing tone, shoving his hands into the pockets of his hoodie.

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After clearing the extended afternoon spread and dinner Tendou prepared, you enthusiastically volunteered to bring him outside your apartment complex. You jab at Tendou’s chest, to which he exaggerates a yelp of pain. 

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“That doesn’t mean you can lure Wakatoshi-kun and I in awkward situations! ALONE!” You hiss as Tendou rubs his chest to sooth the blow of your attack on his lanky frame. 

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“Hey, I’m just looking out for my two friends. Wakatoshi-kun needs to keep busy and having Japan’s Cannon as a guest teacher should be a treat for those little monsters, yeah?” Tendou stops in front of you, reaching to squish your cheeks. 

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“Wakatoshi-kun does not need my help to keep busy. He can go to a gym, meet up with Goshiki or something…” You swat Tendou’s hand away, mumbling your response. Tendou takes your hands in his, a solemn expression taking over his features.

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“Listen, I’m just worried about Wakatoshi-kun. Has he ever – in all our years of knowing him – been off his game?” 

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Your eyes widen. You hadn’t been able to process the turn of events or ventured to those topics of discussion with Wakatoshi yet, leaving his absence in volleyball shrouded in mystery. Of course, you were concerned. You weren’t even sure why you were getting so worked up when it was true, you felt nothing remotely romantic for Wakatoshi. You were convinced that this was all a source of stress for you due to the unpredictability of it all. Surely, having him immerse himself in your daily life shouldn’t be _that_ stressful when he was already living with you… right? And it’s true, your students would marvel at him for sure. You were already bracing yourself for questions of whether or not he was a superhero. 

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“I just think he needs us. He’s never even rebelled against his Grandma or Mom yet here he is, hiding from them in the middle of Sendai. Even if he doesn’t realize it, I think he just needs some time to be normal.” Tendou finishes off, letting go of your hands to wrap an arm around your shoulder. 

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You sigh, giving into Tendou’s warmth. Satori really was a great friend, you couldn’t deny. Deciding to push away any further childish impulses in you, you look up at Tendou who was looking down at you with one of his rare, quiet smiles that would unsettle anyone who only knew his facade of roguish nature. 

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“You’re right. Well, I doubt I’ll be of any help to him but I’ll do my best.” You reply, shrugging Tendou’s arms off as you move to walk ahead of him in the moonlight streets in front of your apartment. 

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“Don’t worry, (F/N)-chan! Wakatoshi-kun needs you more than you know.” Tendou teases with a wink. You roll your eyes nudging his shoulder again, shaking your head at his endless ridicule. 

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Yup, this shouldn’t be a problem at all.

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You woke up in the middle of the night with a layer of sweat on your skin. Turns out, being roommates with Semi Eita meant being engulfed in his testosterone-propelled heat. You grunted as his leg was now sprawled over the lower half of your body and his arm carelessly fell on your upper torso. Moving away from his body, you kicked off his legs and stared menacingly at your best friend’s completely knocked out figure. 

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Unable to fall back asleep immediately, you walked out of bed to make your way into the kitchen. Thinking that a cold glass of water would ease your sleeping experience that was rudely interrupted by Semi manspreading in your very own bed. 

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“(F/N)-san.” Ushijima’s deep voice cuts through the silence. Rubbing your eyes from the sleep, you make out Ushijima seated at the kitchen island counter, dressed in his sweatpants and thin black sweater. 

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“Wakatoshi-kun… why are you awake?” You yawned, surprised at his presence but too sleepy to recognize the absurdity of him being awake at 3 AM. 

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“I don’t know.” Ushijima replies, standing up to follow you as you reach for a glass. Wordlessly, he takes a glass and pulls the pitcher of ice cold water from the refrigerator to pour into it. With half-closed eyes, you furrow your eyebrows at the speed of which he accomplished the task. _Where’s the glass_ , you mumble to yourself. Ushijima places the glass in your hands and urges for you to drink it.  


Gulping the cold water graciously and feeling awake enough now to converse, you turn to Ushijima who’s only staring down at you with his usual expression etched on his features. You thank him before moving to take a seat down on the kitchen island with him following to sit in front of you. 

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_Jesus, is he this handsome all the time?_ You think to yourself eyeing his tall figure. 

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“Is there anything on your mind? A top athlete should be getting enough sleep.” You tell him, taking another sip of water. Realizing how much of a mess you must look, you pat your hair down in an attempt to smooth it from its natural state. 

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“I’m not an athlete right now.” Ushijima replies, quieter than he usually is. 

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You feel your heart crack at how resigned he is to the truth of the moment. Never in your life did you think that Ushiwaka would utter those words. It felt like a trick of the universe, an error of the fates, a miscalculation in the grand scheme of things. Ushijima doesn’t look at you, eyes glued to the kitchen table. He looks so vulnerable like this, you think. He suddenly looks impossibly young, softer and unguarded under the dim lighting. 

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“You’re going to play again, Wakatoshi-kun.” You say, looking directly at him as he raises his head to face you. “You’ll always find it in you to play again, no matter what happens. But volleyball is not who you are.” You finish, gripping your glass to stop the impulse of taking Ushijima’s hand to emphasize your point.

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Ushijima’s eyes widen by a fraction, processing your words.

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“Volleyball is not… who I am.” Ushijima repeats, though it sounds more like a question rather than an affirmation. You worry that your intentions may be misinterpreted and run your fingers through your hair nervously.

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“Um… yes. What I mean to say is, although you’re an incredible player, it doesn’t mean that your performance as an athlete determines your worth.” You say, trying not to cringe at your own cheesy words. Ushijima furrows his eyebrows, clearly trying to understand your statement. You internally kick yourself at being vague with someone like Ushijima who probably has never been reflective of his own self-worth in his life after his talent had outlined a path of success for him at such an early age.

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“Do you know my favorite memory with you, Wakatoshi-kun?” You add, deciding to switch the approach and hoping your embarrassment may be worth this. Ushijima looks at you expectantly, genuinely curious at what you have to say. 

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“In our first year of high school, all our classmates were introducing each other and it was the first time I was separated from Eita in our whole lives. I was so scared and I didn’t know anyone else… except you.” You start, taking a deep breath before you continue. 

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“You approached me when I was alone and started a conversation with me about how I sometimes set the ball so Eita could train. A swarm of classmates then went up to us, eventually surrounding you and kept asking you questions about how you were so tall and strong for a first year.” You chuckle at the memory, feeling heat prickle on your cheeks and ears as you recalled the event.  


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“When the group of classmates started growing bigger, I was eventually pushed out of the circle then. you faced me and asked me to repeat what I had said. All our classmates stopped talking and turned to face me, as if it was their first time noticing I was there. I was stunned back then… We had just met the week before and you paid attention to me when I was too shy to even say ‘here’ when the teacher would take attendance.” You mumble the last part, surprising yourself with how you were even confessing this to him in the first place. 

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Ushijima feels a bolt of recognition blaze through him. He did remember that moment clearly, though he never thought much of it when it always seemed like you were the one paying attention to him. He watches the patch of pink that erupts on your cheeks, tinting the tips of your cheeks with a deep blush. You clear your throat and shake your head as you continue your story, hoping the waves of hair would cover most of your face from him now.

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“I’ll never forget that. You’ve always been attentive and kind to your friends even if you don’t know it. That’s what I mean when I say that volleyball isn’t who you are. Even if by some cruel joke, the universe decided that volleyball wasn’t your path, you would’ve been just fine. You’re a good person and you’re going to play again, okay?” You finish, not meeting Ushijima’s eyes. 

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Turns out, even without Semi and Tendou’s help, you managed to trap yourself in uncomfortable Ushijima-related situations anyway.

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Silence blankets the two of you as Ushijima keeps his eyes on you before him. You look up, staring at the ceiling and every corner of the kitchen that diverted your eyes from the hulk of a man seated in front of you. Almost regretting your decision to be so unwarrantedly _soft_ , his voice slices through the stillness. 

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“Thank you, (F/N)-san. Thank you.” Ushijima says with a wide smile on his face. 

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Olive eyes crinkled in a rare, unabashed smile – you feel your heart constrict in the slightest. 

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Oh no, not again.

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**Notes for the Chapter:**

> AAA thank you for reading! LMAO the reader any time ushijima does anything:👰
> 
> this entire chapter references how ushijima is canonically an artiste according to [haikyuu-buu](https://pbs.twimg.com/media/EZ-Nw7gUEAEPU34?format=jpg&name=small)! he does draw tendou's manga requests apparently according to [this](https://twitter.com/carohaze/status/1270066920088166400) panel 😭 i thought it was such a cute aspect of ushijima's personality + his friendship with tendou. also i'm aware that it was never explicitly stated that ushijima plays in the 2016 Olympics, i just assumed so because ... Monster Generation tings with kageyama 😜 so many questions to be answered in the next few chapters ~ why is ushijima not coming home? what's going on with his playing? how will ushijima teach the kids????
> 
> i hope this wasn't too cheesy hehe please do let me know what you think!! i'd love to hear your thoughts ❤️ thank you for reading, every kudos and comment means a lot!


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